


Heart of Stone

by 105NorthTower



Series: Beforehand [3]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:22:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29545092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/105NorthTower/pseuds/105NorthTower
Summary: A date in St Mawes.I've given no warnings but there are mild sexual references including to underage sex, so don't read if that's bad for you.
Relationships: Ilsa Herbert & Cormoran Strike
Series: Beforehand [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2168427
Comments: 7
Kudos: 20





	Heart of Stone

**Author's Note:**

> (I'm trying to start each of these with the words from the books that sparked them off, but TBH the inspiration for this one is the look on TV Ilsa's face when she says "I like Robin" ... for me, all their history is captured in that look. Kudos to Caitlin Innes Edwards.)

It was the worst day of his life. 

He'd never live this down. Polworth was going to be unbearable. They were best mates but ... he didn't expect him to pass on this chance for humiliation of a classmate. 

He wouldn't, in Dave's position.

He sat on the sea wall and watched the waves rolling in, dragging the shingle back and forth.

"Hey, Corm!"

He grunted.

"Cha doin?"

He briefly considered telling Ilsa everything, but settled for, "Not much," it being shorter and indubitably true, if not comprehensive.

"Not much? OK."

_Don't do it. Don't, Strike. Not again._

"Ils?"

"Yeah?"

"You want to go to the pictures with me?"

She shot him an amused look. "Corm, what day is it?"

"Tuesday."

"And what date?"

"Don't know."

"It's the fourteenth, Corm. The fourteenth of February."

He grunted again.

"And do you know what that date signifies in most western cultures?"

"I just want to go and see a film, Ils ..."

"What, you, me and 49 couples, all of them copping a feel?"

"I'll let you cop a feel if you like."

She snickered. "She stand you up, then?"

"No! I just decided to buy two tickets to The Commitments and sit here in my pulling shirt on the off chance.'

"Her loss, babe."

She took a packet of cigarettes and a lighter out of her back pocket and offered him one. Once they'd both lit up, she continued, waving at the sea as she spoke.

"Plenty of fish out there."

"Bugger the fish. I need to have sex with someone, Ilsa."

"Of course you do. You're sixteen."

"No, but ... I really need to."

"It's the same for everyone."

"Not Dave. He said he broke his duck at 14."

"You do realise he's talking about an actual duck?"

He laughed. "What about you? Got a date?"

"Nah. Greasy Gary asked me, but ..."

He shook his head. "I'd shag Greasy Gary."

"You wouldn't!"

"No, OK. Does he have a sister though?"

"Lives with his gran."

"Does she have her own teeth?"

They both collapsed into giggles and the shark-infested waters of teenage dating seemed fractionally less awful for a moment.

_Strike, I'm begging you for your own good. Don't go there. Have some self-respect._

"Ils?"

"Corm."

"Why haven't we ever dated?" _You just can't help it, can you? You hopeless fucker._

She smiled at him, indulgently. "You know why."

"Yeah, but ..."

"Don't make me do this again."

"Maybe that was just because we were too young though. I mean, we like each other."

"Uh-huh."

"We aren't physically repulsed by each other."

"Nope."

"We're both available. Both sexually ... open to experiences. It would be convenient."

"I'm not an off-licence, Corm."

That silenced him for a moment, but he was soon driven on by biological necessity.

"We could both get it over with. Two birds, one stone."

"Fuck-a-duck, you ARE going to make me do it again."

She slipped off the wall, dropped her cigarette to the ground and trod it out, then advanced on him, hand on hip.

"Brace yourself, Mr Strike. I'm coming in."

She used a knee to push his legs apart and pressed her pelvis into the wall. She grabbed two handfuls of his shirt and pulled him close, her gaze locking onto his and her eyes smouldering. Their lips edged closer, millimetre by millimetre, until ... 

He never knew which one of them started, but he felt a tremor in his belly and an echo coming from her, then noticed her lips compressing, he let out a heartfelt, _oh shit_ , and then they were both laughing, laughing and crying as they clung to each other on the sea wall. 

At least it ended with a cigarette.

Afterwards, Ilsa perched her bottom back on the sea wall and said, matter-of-factly, "That's why."

He sighed and jumped down. "I suppose I'll get off home, then."

"Corm?"

"Yeah?"

"Got you this." She took his hand and placed something tiny she'd been carrying in her fist onto his palm. It was a small, reddish, polished stone, the type they sold in the shops in Falmouth. If you squinted and looked at it from a certain angle, it was heart-shaped.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Corm."


End file.
